A primer on humanism

Theologically, I consider myself a humanist and a panentheist. I’d like to offer a basic description of humanism, which is often little understood (I’ll talk more about panentheism soon).

I am a humanist because I consider religion to be a human necessity. I believe religion is a culturally created phenomenon that serves as a tool for coping with our need for meaning making, our ability to reflect on our own existence and mortality, and as a catalyst for living in loving community. I also use the label of humanist to convey the reality that we experience everything via a uniquely human lens. As such, we must be aware of our biases and limitations. Whether we use our senses, cognition, or intuition, these are human senses, human cognition, and human intuition.

I am a humanist not because I believe that humans are an ultimate life form superior to others or uniquely designed in the image of a creator, but because we are one among countless many. Our intellectual ability to alter our environment and to reflect on the consequences of our actions brings with it the responsibility to work with foresight to preserve the environment and to anticipate our destructive effects.

For me, humanism is at the heart of everything we are. We are human! Our world is one of human experience through our senses and behaviors, and one of interpretation and evaluation through our emotion and cognition, or metaphorically, through our hearts and minds. Our hearts and minds are what make us human.

Some define humanism such that it rejects the religious. Humanism does not have to mean the rejection of religion, the religious, or the spiritual. I believe in a God-concept of the synchronicity of all that exists–the symbiosis of a universe that is simultaneously orderly and chaotic. These are forces of which we are a part, with which we can interact, but over which we don’t necessarily have any power. I don’t believe in God as a sentient being who holds intentional power over humanity and the universe. The concept of a creator and a controller seems irrelevant to me. How we got here and what will become of us is the concern of the anthropologist and historian more than the priest or the pastor. The church defeats its purpose unless it is intimately and primarily concerned with the human condition here on earth.

Humanists must remain aware of the human aspect of all belief and knowledge. Humanism, like any religious belief system, becomes counterproductive when it becomes rigid, self-righteous, or exclusive. In 1973, Edwin Wilson defined humanism this way:

It centers in the faith that [we] can live a good life this side of the grave. It expresses the belief that [we have] potentially the intelligence, good will, and co-operative skills to survive on this planet…[and are able to provide] an opportunity for growth, adventure, meaning and fulfillment for all [humanity]. It is the faith that, however short may be [our] days, beauty and joy may fill them.

Many of us are humanists not because we believe that humans are the be all and end all of life, but because being human is the means we have to interact with each other, with nature, and with the universe. I am a humanist not because we are the most intelligent beings on this planet (at least as far as we know) but because we have responsibilities on this earth. We are the only beings who can to alter the earth’s environment on a global scale. We are the only beings who have ventured into outer space. We are the only beings with the destructive power, intentionally or unintentionally, to make this world uninhabitable.

Humanism also recognizes the importance of the non-rational, emotional factors in human experience. It takes seriously the tragic dimension of life and the role evil plays in human tragedies. Humanism can be open to mystery, wonder, and transcendence. These are all essential parts of our human experience. Humans live constantly with a sense of inquiry, curiosity, and wonder.

Religious humanism is committed to liberating oppressed people and to establishing economic justice. We ought to have a bias toward the poor, disadvantaged, and oppressed. We are all human, and we have an obligation and responsibility to one another and to all that exists.

This is God for me. The other. Everything that exists beyond myself. A person, a sound, a gentle breeze, a thunderous storm, an image of hope, or even of hopelessness. Without these things, we each individually cease to exist because we stop experiencing the world. I am a humanist. My God is in everything that I can comprehend, and includes that which I cannot yet comprehend, but someday may.

My God exists in everything I can see, hear, smell, and touch. The miracle of this concept–the personal realization of God–exists in what we can do with the information we experience. How we act on our responsibility to the other. My God is not a living, sentient being. It is not a creator or a judgment. It simply is. God is. I like to think this is what the writer of Exodus meant in recording God’s words as “I AM WHO I AM.” God is. Some of us fill in the blank and give an object to that sentence. Theologian Paul Tillich wrote in his book, Dynamics of Faith, that God is both subject and object. I am that I am. This is humanism and religion for me. I am that I am. We are that we are. Completely and utterly human.